Starfall
by Tallakahath
Summary: Times have been quiet  with Team Rocket vanquished three decades ago, no one's been around to cause trouble.  So then why have six, random teenagers, fresh out of pokemon academy, been dragged away and charged with saving the known world? Non canon


So, what's this, you all ask?  
Might as well introduce myself first. I'm Liz. No, no last name, never on the internet.  
I'm a sucker for self-inserts, so, yup, I'm in this one, too. Sue me.  
First thing's first...

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN POKEMON. OK? DON'T. NEVER DID, NEVER WILL. I ALSO DO **NOT** OWN "Me and My Flame", a totally effin' awesome charizard fic hosted at the Charizard Valley site, http://chadcharizard. that you all should read. Conor, Emmy, Lorenzo, Yoku, and Jesse are also not mine, and are characters owned by their respective roleplayers.

This fic was inspired by me finally getting off my lazy but and re-reading "Me and My Flame". Its perhaps one of the best pokemon fanfictions out there, about Chad the Charizard and his attempts to better his own life, and ultimately, the life of all pokemon.

This is in a non-canon universe, and takes only vague hints from the world of the video games, shows, and movie. I've never read the manga, and thus, I can't really comment on its similarities/differences to that. For all purposes, Ash and co. don't exist, never did. Kids go to pokemon academies before setting out – starter pokemon have become rare, as have pokemon in the wild, and due to widespread issues with trainers mistreating pokemon, not knowing how to survive outside cities, and children getting eaten by rogue garchomps... well, things had to change.

30 years prior to the setting of this, Team Rocket was vanquished once and for all. Mewtwo Strikes Back, The Power of One, Mewtwo Returns, Destiny Deoxys, and Pokemon Ranger and The Temple of the Sea have all occurred, with the central trainer being a person who happened to be in the right place, at the right time, and thus faded into obscurity after.

This takes place perhaps seventy years after the "canon", and thus technology has progressed to some extent. However, things have stagnated somewhat – over the past twenty years attention has shifted to a slow climate change: seasons becoming more pronounced, weather becoming more extreme, pokemon becoming more aggravated, and the legendaries lessening in sightings until many seem to have disappeared.

Our journey begins following six, average students, graduating from their last day in Pokemon Academy, in the Leye region, just north of Sinnoh.

---

Chapter One: Graduation

The room fell to a deathly-quiet hush as the professor in the white lab coat on the stage cleared his throat. But as the action was not followed up by any other, the low-tone chatter lept back up as the principal continued his speech. It wasn't because the students didn't respect the portly old man in the three-piece maroon suit (well, they didn't, but it wasn't the reason they simply talked through his speech), but because his so-called "inspirational speech" was the same speech from the year prior, and the year before that, and the year before that, and the year before that... it was practically the same speech from the moment he had begun his work at the school.

And the speech had been going on for nearly an hour now, doubling back on itself and reaching no identifiable end. The only "inspiration" it gave to the students was inspiration to run straight out of here the moment they could. Unfortunately, that moment would only be decided when the thin, old, and unkindly looking man in the long, white, well-worn lab coat decided to do more then clear his throat.

Liz was among the mass of bored students, displaying her ennui by kicking back, putting her black-tennis-shoe clad feet on the seat in front of her, and letting out a long, low whistle. For the girl with "Naturally Caffeinated" as her motto, mantra, and the slogan stitched into the back of her half-hoodie-shrug, it really was a very controlled release of her boundless energy. But then again, the girl with the copper-red hair and the green-and-purple outfit had spent the night prior worrying over what pokemon she'd end up with at the end of the ceremony, a worry shared by almost all of the students. The restlessness caused by this shared anxiety was practically the only reason the entire auditorium hadn't erupted into total chaos by now.

Emmy reacted to Liz's whistle by twisting around in her seat, trying to spot the source of the odd noise. The two girls had been in Pokemon Husbandry 101, and 201 together, but despite sitting one seat apart for two years in a row, had never gotten past learning each other's names, and the occasional 'hi' and bye' muttered in the hallway. Then again, it made sense – the girl with the feathered brown hair stood in sharp contrast to Liz – where the first was loud and extroverted, Emmy tended to keep to herself, sticking to the rules and her own ideas. And while Liz was one of flashy outfits – short skirts and knee-high socks taking up half the space in her closet, Emmy stuck to blue and white jeans and shirts, respectively, with the only decoration being a silver heart-pendant necklace, and bracelet. But they knew each other that Emmy responded to Liz's whistle with a quiet "Oh, hi, Liz. Do you know when this will end?"

"Mmm... by my watch..." Liz started, glancing down at her bare wrist (the half-hoodie's sleeves only went to elbow-length), and staring furiously at the pale skin as if a watch would just appear, "in about... never? Seriously, I snuck in here when my sister graduated three years ago, the old driftloon went on _foreeeeeever_." She added, stretching out the 'e' sound as she widened her eyes. "Hell, I don't even know why the hell he works here. He does nothing 'cept sit in his office all day and tells students to go take it up with some other member of the administration."

"Its 'cause his brother's Shard, that's the only reason." A male voice interjected, somewhere behind and to the left of Emmy and Liz. There had been rumors that the shared last name between the final member of the elite four, Shard Grey, and the principal, Mr. Grey was more then just coincidence, but it'd never been verified or proven false. Even if it did make Mr. Grey's position more... logical. "He'll be here until I go beat Shard and take his place as Elite Four champion." The boy in the bright blue vest added. Jesse, as he was called, had been in Emmy's Trainer History class, but the two had never spoken before this because the male slept through the class, insisting that he didn't need to know about people he'd beat and surpass anyway. He was headstrong, alright, and bubbly, though nothing like the energy Liz possessed. She had seen him around in the lunchroom, but the two had never spoken.

"Naw, that's just a rumor!" Liz responded. "He was here 'fore Shard took his place, I mean, the "changing of the guard" only happened five years ago, Mr. Grey's been over here for close to twenty!" She added, righting herself in her seat and grasping for her black, canvas backpack. "See...!" She added, pulling out the planner given to all students at the beginning of the year – it was beat up and burnt and stained and warped and faded, but the section on the bottom of the cover detailing the amount of time the principal held his position was clear – it was at least a good twenty years.

"Yeah, but, he actually did stuff back then. Now he just sits around and gets fatter, and sleeps in his office. You can even hear him snoring." Jesse responded, upset at being proven wrong.

Lorenzo listened to the conversation with mild interest; he didn't really care for much of anything going on at the moment, but at least it beat sitting and twiddling his thumbs. It wasn't the pokemon he even cared about, no, it was the fact that being a trainer allowed him to travel as he wished. The dark-skinned boy looked at pokemon as just a means to an end – as long as it could take care of itself, for the most part, and keep him from getting eaten, he'd be happy. Dressed in a black-and-red checkered button-down, and baggy black jeans, he didn't quite fit in with the bright, and very, very vibrant (in Liz's case) clothing of the others. Not like Lorenzo really cared – he'd never tried to fit in, and as a consequence hadn't really made any friends at the academy. He'd been lab partners with Jesee for an entire semester and still didn't know the other boy's name.

"Well, it doesn't really matter why he's here. I'm more curious about that guy." A different male voice started, softer, and quiet then Jesse's. A charcoal-sleeve-clad hand pointed towards the professor on the stage, and the arm traced back to Yoku. That he even spoke was a miracle – the boy was shy, very shy, even if school had somewhat helped him come out of that shell. Emmy looked over to the right, followed by Liz (the former had been battle partners with the shy boy for half a year in freshman year), and spotted Yoku. He had a simple, charcoal-gray hoodie with a luxray printed on the back, and plain blue jeans.

"He has a point." Emmy commented, as Liz furrowed her brow in thought. She opened her mouth to reply, but, was cut off by yet another new voice – the kid who'd always sat in front of her in Legendary Lore and Myth and sketched dragons, Conor. Perhaps the only one of the "group" with a fashion sense to rival Liz's in eye-searing ability, he kept to a nu-rave sort of fashion, with a neon-green t-shirt that had an electric blue bolt running diagonally across. His shoelaces were an equal shade of green, and his messenger bag seemed a bit more Liz's style – purple and green, though far more neon then her. Conor said nothing else, not because he was somewhat quiet, but because the room had fallen into another deathly hush, as the professor on stage coughed once, twice, three times, loudly and forced.

"Despite how much I'd imagine your students enjoy being told about the wonders of the "_state of the art"_ labs they've spent the last four years in..." The tall, lean man began, storm-grey eyes sparkling as he elicited a nervous chuckle from the crowd. "My time here is limited, and I'd appreciate it if we could get on with the ceremony. No doubt my colleagues, too, would wish to get on with the show." He added, motioning towards the corner near the stairs to the stage, where the door to the props room was located. Oddly, it was open, and like ghosts a few figures, also in white lab coats, milled about.

Lorenzo eyed them with mild curiosity, Jesse glanced over with mild fear. The fact that the sister lab to the academy had even sent over a professor to accompany the shipment of starters had been odd enough – ever since Mr. Grey had begun teaching, the entire graduation ceremony consisted of him talking for 9/10ths of it, then handing each of the kids a pokeball and sending them on their merry ways (whether they met their parents outside, or started on their journeys, was up to them). All of this was entirely new, and strange, to the students who'd been told by their older peers how things "always were".

"Ah, but first, I think a warning is in order. Despite how... _detailed_ your speech has been, Edward," the principal had begun to sweat visibly, and the use of his first name only added to his anxiety, "it has skipped over the key points and mentions any new trainer should hear." The professor turned, from the principal to the crowd full-on, running a hand through his short, salt-and-pepper hair, before clasping both hands behind his back. If possible, the students became even quieter then before. "This isn't a game. This isn't "I'm going to catch me some pokemon and be the best pokemon master ever!"." The professor's voice jumped to a high, whiny, mocking falsetto, before dropping back to its normal serious tone.

"Times have been changing. Despite how your teachers have done best to assuage your fears and worries, pokemon _have_ gotten more aggressive, the weather _is _getting more severe, and not everyone you'll meet will have your best interests at heart. Times are changing, and you here will determine what the future will be, for yourselves, and for everyone else. Don't take this lightly. Because if you mess up, you won't have anyone else to blame, or fall back on, but yourselves. I am professor Foxglove, and I'm not here to tell you how you're all bright, wonderful students who will go on to do great things. I'm here to tell you that every thing's not sunshine and rainbows. Now, if you would..."

Professor Foxglove waited, hands clasped, as someone or another behind the stage heaved the curtain up, showing an impressive assembly of pokeballs. They were piled in a pyramid, and there were a good five hundred of them, one for every student seated in the room, and a few extra, as a precaution. Liz and Emmy gasped, Yoku simply stared wide-eyed, Lorenzo chuckled softly, Jesse's heart skipped a beat, and all the color drained from Conor's face. This was it. The moment that everyone in the room had all been waiting for. Despite being nearly purple-in-the-face, the principal regained his composure, at least enough to speak the words everyone'd been holding their breath for.

"Will row one please stand, and approach the stage." And so it began, as student by student walked down to the side, up the stairs, past the aids standing ominously in the prop room, to shake hands with the principal, grab their pokeball from professor Foxglove, and exit off the other side of the stage, to shake hands with the teachers lined up against the opposite wall, progress up, and out of the auditorium. What they did after that was up to them, and judging by the amount of pushing and shoving in line, and in the aisles, nobody could wait.

As the rows were called, Yoku was the first to be singled out, sitting in row three. It was hard to see exactly what occurred as the crowd pushed and shoved near the important corner junction, but one moment the red-haired boy was there, and the next moment he wasn't. He never appeared on-stage, or offstage on the other side. And while Lorenzo took no notice, out of sheer apathy, and Conor and Jesse hadn't been paying attention, Emmy noticed and reached over to tap Liz on the shoulder, pointing over at the corner.

"You see that?" She whispered. "He's gone!" The girl with the hazel eyes squeaked. Liz's gaze darted about, trying to prove Emmy wrong and spot Yoku. But he really was gone. "What do you think happened?" Emmy added, as they both turned their gazes to Conor – he was in row five, and soon to be called. Row four had progressed without a hitch, and Liz and Emmy were both left confused.

"Didn't you see? The door to the prop room was open... Foxglove pointed it out. Some sorta' guys in white lab coats millin' about. I knew they looked kinda funny." The other girl responded, pulling her purple-and-green half-hoodie up over her head. "This whole situation's scaring me." Liz added, as Jesse mumbled something unintelligible. Both Emmy and Liz looked back over at him, and missed Conor being pulled into the storeroom, followed by Lorenzo, as the two were seated in the same row. "Got something to say, smartass?" Liz was... on edge, and thus, a touch snappier then usual.

"Huh?" Jesse responded – he'd been musing to himself aloud, not speaking to the two girls. "No, nothing..." He trailed off. "Hey, where'd that kid go?" Jesse didn't have to specify who "that kid" was – Conor was hard to miss, in his vibrant colors, and as the trio watched the group emerge from the other side, they all noticed the distinctive lack of the male. Liz resisted the urge to slap Jesse – hadn't he noticed Yoku's disappearance? But then he pointed out what the girls had missed: "Where's Lorenzo?"

"Whose Lorenzo?" Liz asked, blinking. Lorenzo's anti-social tactics had worked – the only reason Jesse knew who the boy was, was due to being partnered with him, but even if Liz had shared trainer history with Lorenzo, she had no idea who he was. Emmy had simply never run into him, and stayed quiet.

"Uh..." Jesse was at a loss to describe Lorenzo – he'd simply taken such little notice of the kid! "Ok, never mind, look, they just called row seven!" He whispered loudly to Emmy, who was seated in the aforementioned row. She took notice as student traffic began to build up behind her, and gave a nod to the two, before rushing off towards the stage. Liz turned back to Jesse, to continue the conversation, and only turned around right after Emmy had disappeared. But she didn't get a chance to comment on the situation, as her own row, row eight, was called. "Good luck." Jesse muttered worriedly, and Liz just gave a solemn nod.

"I will not get kidnapped, I will not get kidnapped, I will not get kidnapped..." Liz chanted to herself, as her own line shuffled towards the foreboding door. Now that she was closer, she could see that the aids inside were young, almost as young as her, and not even close to as old as professor Foxglove was. They all carried clipboards, and glanced from the students, to their papers, students to the papers, checking for... something. One made eye-contact with Liz, and frowned.

Jesse had been looking down at his own shoes when "it" happened, and was too worried about himself to really care. Well, at least it beat being bored and sitting around. If any sorta' lab suits tried to manhandle him, he'd show 'em something. At least, that's what he hoped, as his own row was called, and he, too, nervously shuffled towards the stage. It was almost as Jesse had predicted it, and the boy practically walked straight into the room, head up proudly, into the darkness ushered by the men in the white lab coats. The door was pulled shut behind them, and there was silence, save for the footsteps of the students marching by outside.


End file.
